


All I Want To Hear You Say

by the_butler



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Continuation, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Prompt Fic, Reunions, Rumlow (mentioned), Sequel, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_butler/pseuds/the_butler
Summary: The texts came sporadically, but they came nonetheless. Little snippets of politeness, vague updates of a life far removed from his own. Steve kept them saved on his phone, not daring to delete them, but neither daring to reply. And then, one day, a sentence bolder than the others:“I miss you.”A sequel to my previous fic, “Here Isn’t Where I Wanna Be”Original Prompt: We dated in high school and then you moved away and now you’re back in town
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	All I Want To Hear You Say

**Author's Note:**

> Went back to the well and this came up. Still listened to Arctic Monkeys when I wrote this.
> 
> So this is a sequel fic to one of my earlier fics, [“Here Isn’t Where I Wanna Be”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776347/chapters/44545222)
> 
> You can go read that first if you’d like.

The texts came sporadically, but they came nonetheless. Little snippets of politeness, vague updates of a life far removed from his own. Steve kept them saved on his phone, not daring to delete them, but neither daring to reply. And then, one day, a sentence bolder than the others:

“I miss you.”

He stared at the screen for a good while, trying to suss out more meaning from such a simple yet loaded sentiment. Kept looking at it from time to time, as if to assure himself it existed while wishing it didn’t. It’s been a while since he didn’t know his own mind, and he hated it. Hated himself for being so easily swayed. Hated Bucky for having a change of heart. 

And then one night, mind half-numb from the tediousness of paperwork and three fingers of whiskey in, he thought “what the hell”, and opened the message again, entering letters into the typing field before he could stop himself.

“I miss you too.”

He waited, for the reply, for the reproach. He could easily imagine Bucky angrily typing out, “then why did you leave me hanging?” Or some such. But none came. He fell asleep with the phone still clutched in his hand. 

Morning greeted him with the long awaited reply. It wasn’t any of his imagined scenarios, but if he were honest enough he’d admit it’s the long shot he kind of hoped for. 

“Maybe we should start over?”

The surge of that singular emotion, of hope, in his chest was too much to bear. He left his phone on the bed and got up and went for a run, longer and faster than he’d ever done, pushing his body to match the pace his mind raced with thoughts- of longing, of trepidation, of anger, of wishfulness. He came back to his apartment drenched in sweat and emotions, and after a long hot shower spent the whole day ignoring his phone. And the day after that. On the third day, he had to go to work and thus had to take the phone with him, miraculously still charged. It had another message.

“It doesn’t have to happen now. I can wait. Whatever it takes, Stevie.”

As the towers of his pride crumbled, Steve messaged back, “Maybe we should start off as friends.”

The reply was instantaneous. “I’m okay with that. Hi, my name’s James, but friends call me Bucky :)”

It made him crack a smile, and though their past was nothing if not fraught it still made him feel nostalgic for a time he imagined could have been simpler, more innocent. What could have been, instead of what was. He replied, “I’m Steve. Some jerk keeps calling me Stevie.”

“Haha. Definitely sounds like a jerk.”

“Yeah, he kinda was. But I think he’s changed.”

Days went by and the messages flowed between them. Steve learned about the Bucky that he left when he ran away as fast as he could from his hometown. How he injured his arm second year in college, ruining his prospects for some kind of future in football, and losing him his scholarship. After dropping out of college, waited for his arm to heal before entering the service, but ended his military career early due to medical reasons. How he went through a depression, self-medicating with alcohol and drugs until a timely intervention from his younger sister jolted him to some semblance of awareness of the state of his life. Cleaned up and went to therapy while bunking with his sister’s family. Did odds and ends here and there, worked as a carpenter, home repair and mechanic, anything he could do with his hands really, until his sister told him of a returning veteran opening up a new place in their hometown. The kind veteran hired him with a sympathetic smile, not even bothering to look at his resume, and he’d been with them ever since. He still does side jobs, hell bent on repaying his sister’s kindness in his time of need, who refused it in every turn. So he resorted to spoiling his nieces and nephews with toys and treats. He was ready to move out but his sister wanted him to stay put so he can save up some more, for the future she would say, but really out of fondness. 

Steve was less vulnerable in his responses. He gave the general outline of his life and mostly focused on how his career went- from military to the head of a department for S.H.I.E.L.D. And even then, just surface level stuff- his field of work requiring clearances and classified information. He skirted around the subject of romance but told of his small but loyal group of friends. He spoke of Natasha and Sam and especially Peggy with great fondness. Bucky responded in kind- speaking lovingly of his sister’s family, the veteran who hired him named Duggan, as well as Jim Morita, the friend from high school who kept in touch even though he moved on west to California, and some friends from college- all scattered to the wind, one in England and two in France. 

Eventually Bucky asked to call, and it warmed Steve to hear his voice, low and gravelly, speak of nothing and everything. They were hesitant affairs at first, both halting and guessing when to speak, but eventually things flowed smoother when they commiserated of their time in the service. Then calls began to last an hour, some time in the afternoon after Steve comes home from his job and Bucky prepares to begin for his own. Soon enough Steve found himself looking forward to the calls, hastening to end his day at the office when before he did overtime whenever he can. His friends noticed the change, and Natasha even pointed it out the next time they all drank together when Sam was liaising for the USAF. 

“I... kinda met someone.” And it wasn’t a lie, not wholly, since they did agree to start over. Natasha needled him for details while Sam opted to congratulate him with another round of drinks. Peggy just sat there, looking at him with a gleam in her eyes. Sure enough, when he gets home, he gets the call. It was short and to the point: Peggy simply said “assure me this one’s not another Rumlow.” Steve, to his surprise, did not pause to answer that it was nowhere near another Rumlow. Peggy simply replied, “good” and hung up. Steve breathed a sigh of relief after the call. He knew his friends had his back, and the call somehow affirmed something he had been suspecting- that he was falling for Bucky again. But this time, the man was different from the boy who broke his heart seemingly irreparably. What’s left to know is if he’s the same boy who got his heart broken, or has he grown enough to forgive?

Surprising himself yet again, it was Steve who suggested they video call. 

“Are you sure?” Was the question, but there was eagerness in Bucky’s voice. Steve replied in the affirmative, and scheduled their video call for the next day. It was a Monday when Steve saw Bucky’s face again. The video was grainy, Bucky was on his phone while Steve was on his laptop, and they spent the first few minutes on the minutiae of a video call- adjusting, checking sound, finding lighting, etc. When finally they settled for the actual call, Bucky sat fidgeting while Steve felt nervous. He did not speak, lest his voice crack. Then Bucky looked straight at him, and it was like lightning struck for a third time. Bucky smiled as if he understood.

“How are ‘ya, Stevie?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh in relief. He sagged back in his chair, not realizing he had been sitting up ramrod. 

“Good”, he said, “I’m good.” Meaning more than the actual words.

“That’s great to hear.”

A pause, but not an awkward one, where they both just smiled at each other.

“It’s really good to see you.” Steve said, meaning every word of it.

“I feel the same. It’s like a lifetime.”

“Several.”

Another pause, another set of smiles. 

“Listen, we never got around the subject, but I’ve been meaning to ask,” Bucky said, semi-serious. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Steve just shook his head, and Bucky gave a relieved chuckle. “Good. Good to know! Not that good you’re single... I mean it’s good that you are but I’m not saying- oh you know what I mean.”

It was Steve’s turn to chuckle, and Bucky just made a face at his own fumble.

“I’m not seeing anyone either. Not that you asked, but just putting it out there.” Bucky continued, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had since high school. Steve found himself thinking it was a little endearing. He had never thought of anything that reminded him of high school as endearing before. 

“So how was your day?” Bucky asked, and Steve felt a small relief at that- they weren’t going to speak of romance, not today. They carried on like before on calls, only now with the addition of seeing each other’s facial reactions. And then it was over, Steve having to go back to his paperworks and Bucky having to run errands on his day off. It was a small thing, Steve thought, going over his team’s daily schedule for the week, but he felt lighter than a feather. 

Bucky had looked much better than the last he saw him at the bar that fateful day he returned to his hometown. His beard looked kept and his hair let down but not in the way. And the storm grey eyes- even with the grainy effect of the camera Steve would have sworn they looked the same as when they first locked eyes with each other that day in high school art class. He went to sleep dreaming of those eyes, and slept more peacefully than he did in years.


End file.
